


The Third Option

by ShadowHeart405



Series: The Thin Line Betwixt Light and Dark [4]
Category: Fran Bow (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Narrowly Avoiding War, The Secret History of F.R.E.E., character examination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHeart405/pseuds/ShadowHeart405
Summary: Fran saves the Realities from open war. You’d think they’d be happier with that, but for some reason they decide it’s not good enough.





	The Third Option

-x-x- 

“Itward, the Walker Between the Worlds, you have been called before this Tribunal to provide testimony concerning the actions of one Fran Bow, the so-called Keeper of the Keys. Do you swear to tell the truth as you perceive it?” 

“I so swear, though I do not see the reason for why I must provide testimony for Fran’s actions, the girl made the choice of her own free will.” 

“That is not the question at hand.” 

"Then, your luminousness, what exactly is the question?” 

Fran hummed as she watched the shadowy reflection of Itward standing before a tribunal of beings haloed by light in the water of the pool before her, legs crossed and tucked beneath her skirt. 

“He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” She asked, glancing over at the figure sprawled out next to her, head resting on a hand and at first glance appearing asleep. His yellow eyes opened and flicked over to the pool, a thoughtful hum emerging from his lips. 

“Yes. If there is anyone who can run verbal circles around the Great Valokas, it’s Itward.” 

Fran sighed softly before shaking her head and turning her attention back to the pool. 

“You would think that the Great Valokas would be happy that the Realities were not subjected to open war again,” Fran stated. She heard a soft chuckle from her companion. 

"In all your time studying under Itward and with everything you have learned, I’m surprised you never caught onto the Great Valokas’s little game,” her companion said. 

“And what would that be?” 

“His desire to goad the Fifth Reality into attacking en masse so he can justify invading and taking over, of course.” 

“You promised not to lie to me ever again, or did you forget the terms of our agreement?” Fran asked, frowning before she heard her companion’s laugh, a dark rumble. 

"She doesn’t believe me… well, no surprise there….” 

-x-x- 

Fran had realized after her lesson on the History of All Things with Itward that she really knew very little about anything. The realization festered inside her as she mulled over what she had learned. Remor was the son of the Great Valokas, the two beings linked forever. That made him a Prince of the Light and the Darkness, right? Just like how Kamalas were creatures of darkness that eventually became creatures of light once enough time had passed and they had been purified. 

So what about Remor? Was there hope for him? Perhaps he too could be saved…. 

Fran flopped back into the grass and looked up at the sky as the realization hit her. 

“I have to go back to the asylum,” She said, watching the clouds overhead for a moment. Mr. Midnight made a quizzical cat noise next to her, blinking in confusion. 

“Fran, why would you need to go back there? It was a terrible place!” Mr. Midnight questioned: 

“I know, but my gut tells me there’s more to this story that I need to know… and to figure it out I have to go back to the beginning…” Fran stated, rolling over onto her stomach to look at Mr. Midnight. The cat made a mrrrt noise, shaking his head. 

“I don’t know what good it will do, but if you think it’s a good idea then I will accompany you,” Mr. Midnight said, gently butting his head against Fran’s cheek. Fran laughed softly and stroked Mr. Midnight’s glossy fur, causing the cat to purr in contentment. Ithersta was a beautiful place, but as Fran grew she was beginning to see the darkness at the edge of it all. While the people lived in peace, they did not know of the wars that happened long ago that forced the unwanted away, into the darkness. They did not understand that the actions of King Ziar and the Great Valokas long ago has set into motion a new conflict that was growing ever closer. Fran had no desire to see the Realities go to war again and she would do whatever it took to ensure it didn't happen.

-x-x- 

“When did you first encounter the girl?” 

“When her imagination called out to me.” 

“That was not my question, do I need to re-phrase?” 

“Oh, not at all your Luminousness! But my answer was the truth. I only became aware of Fran Bow when her mind started to Awaken. So very few beings in the Third Reality have the potential to Awaken, but those that do… what fascinating specimens they are!” 

“You do know that revealing yourself to an un-Awakened being goes against the Agreement of Kalo-vas.” 

“Which, if I must remind you, your Luminousness, the Fourth Reality did NOT sign. We drafted the Agreement, yes, but it was between the First and Fifth Realities. The Second Reality signed as a show of good faith, and the Fourth Reality notarized the Agreement, but never actually signed….” 

“He has you on technicality there, your Luminousness….” 

“Even if the beings of the Fourth Reality are not beholden to the Agreement, what can be said about someone assisting the Prince of Darkness in side-stepping the Agreement to affect an un-Awakened?” 

“That begs the question about what is considered an un-Awakened. Is a pre-Awakened individual considered un-Awakened until they achieve fully-Awakened status?...” 

-x-x-

The Oswald Asylum had seen better days. Fran stood outside the locked gates, looking at the abandoned building. Dead plant-life surrounded the decaying complex, it looked like no one had been at the hospital in years. This was the first time in ten years Fran Bow had even stepped foot in the Third Reality and everything looked muted after she had grown so used to the vibrant brightness of the Second Reality. Mr. Midnight was pressed close to her legs, scenting the air as he waited for her to get her bearings. 

“It doesn’t smell like anyone’s been here in quite some time,” he eventually said, looking to Fran. The young woman nodded, moving forward to take the heavy lock that kept a length of chain around the gates, closing them to the outside world. She poured a bit of magic into the lock, kindly asking it to open for her. The lock opened with a light click and Fran removed the lock and unwrapped the chain, managing to push one of the rusted gates open just enough so that she and Mr. Midnight could squeeze through. Afterwards, she shoved the gate closed, having to throw her shoulder into it, and re-wrapped the chain before placing the lock on it but not yet re-locking it. 

The path to the front door was overgrown, dead weeds lining it where manicured lawns once tried to welcome new patients and visitors to the Asylum. A few dead leaves were blown across the path as Fran approached the front door, taking in a few deep breaths as memories overwhelmed her. She didn’t want to return here, but she knew she had to… 

She had to use more of her magic to get the front door to unlock and open, another heavy iron padlock kept a small length of chain through the door handles of the building. While it was likely an attempt at keeping people out, Fran had the sneaking suspicion the locks and chains were also a vain attempt at keeping something contained within. Places like this had an inner life of their own and, while humans normally couldn't see them, Kamalas could feed off of the residual despair of such a place for years to come until the bones were sucked dry. 

The inside was no better than the outside. Everything had been left to decay as it wanted to, as if one day everyone in the Asylum had stood up and left, leaving everything in place for whenever they returned. But no one had, so the air was still, the hallways dark, and the dust had settled. Fran walked slowly and carefully, making sure each step was measured on the rotting floors. She would hate to find a bad patch and fall into the basement. 

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” Mr. Midnight asked as he carefully trotted along next to Fran. 

“Something, anything about the work Dr. Oswald was doing concerning FREE,” Fran said as she approached a decaying directory on the wall. It took only a small portion of her power to locate a reality where the directory still existed in a pristine condition so she could read it and figure out where Dr. Oswald’s office was located. The directory revealed his office was on the second floor and according to the map it was the largest office. 

Picking their way along the deserted and dark corridors with a conjured fairy light for assistance, Fran noticed that there were curious Kamalas in the darkness, only identifiable by their glowing pin-prick eyes. A few even darted closer to her to investigate, but quickly recoiled as they realized who she was. 

“Little marked girl.”

“Not-so-little marked girl…” one corrected. 

“Not-so-little marked girl and her cat return.” 

The news spread like wildfire amongst the Kamalas still present in the asylum. Fran could hear their whispers all around her. She no longer had any fear of them, knowing full well that they would only feed on her fear and grow stronger. However, what did make her nervous was their connection to Remor. What would he do if he found out she had returned here? The veil here between the Third and Fifth Realities was weak and could potentially allow Remor to break through and harass her on her mission. She tried not to think about it as she picked up the pace. 

Dr. Oswald’s office was dark and quiet, no Kamalas were present in the room. However, Fran could detect that the veil in this room was extremely thin. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she walked in, Mr. Midnight moving between her legs into the room. He sniffed the air cautiously, fur standing on-end. 

“We shouldn’t linger here,” He stated softly. Fran nodded her agreement as she summoned a small ball of light to illuminate the room to give them light to work by. Fran frowned as she carefully picked her way over to the desk, shifting through the papers that had been left there. Most of it was simple correspondence, letters and notes asking Dr. Oswald’s opinion about a diagnosis or about a patient. However, none of it even had a hint of being someone involved in FREE, even though there were a few names that Fran recognized from her childhood stay at the Oswald Asylum. She set the papers aside, moving to the drawers. She tugged on one of the larger drawers on the right-hand side and found that it was locked. Well, it was no issue for her to pick it and she had it open in a few heartbeats. 

“Jackpot,” Fran said softly, smiling to herself as she flicked through a set of patient files. There were names that she recognized – her own first of all, then the names of her mother and aunt Grace, and lastly the names of Clara and Mia Buhalmet. She pulled the yellowed folders out of the drawer and tossed them onto the surface of the desk. 

“Fran, you may also want to look at this,” Mr. Midnight said from across the room, nudging a leather journal with his nose. Fran looked up, the leather cover of the journal put her in mind of Leon’s journal. However, the journal looked as though it had been carelessly tossed aside, away from a shelf in the room. She blinked lightly, but approached to pick it up before flicking through the pages, her eyes widening. 

“This… this is exactly what I need…” Fran stated as she walked back over to the desk, sinking into the leather chair. “Listen to this….

“I, Dr. Oswald Harrison, swear that this account - as fantastical as it seems - is entirely true. The notes within this book represent my work on the way diseased brains perceive reality as well as the experiences I have had in the pursuit of this knowledge. I must preface this work as such because even I do not believe everything that has happened throughout the course of my research. 

“This work began when I met the researcher Dr. Leon Castillo. I had always been interested in how the diseased perceived the world around them, mostly in attempt to try and assist them in recovery, to bring them back into perceiving the true world around them. I had taken a particular interest in the fantasy stories that children constructed in order to deal with their traumas. Disassociation is what I would term it, their disconnect to the world around them caused them to leave productive society and rarely - if ever - return. Dr. Castillo was a philosopher and sociologist. By the time I had met him, he had already created a great body of work concerning a new philosophical theory called F.R.E.E. or the “Five Realities of Essential Existence.” At first, I dismissed this body of work. Much of it was in the realm of the fantastical and was unsuited to a scientific medical study like mine, but he was a respected researcher and proved invaluable in his ability to help connect an individual’s created story to the trauma that had actually happened, so I chose to ignore his odd philosophy work. 

“That was until I noticed how he began to pay certain attention to some of my patients. They were children who spoke of seeing dark shadows everywhere, creatures that feasted upon their deepest fears. A few times I caught him indulging these children in their fantasies, for which I reprimanded him for on more than one occasion. Each time, he would smile secretively and nod at me in a patronizing manner. It drove me mad, to the point I approached him about it one night and he told me everything. 

That was then he showed me his Journal, chronicling his “journey” through the Five Realities of essential existence. At first I was of a mind to have him institutionalized, his words sounded frankly insane and the images he had drawn were similar to ones I had seen patients draw. However, he had seemed to have moved passed the psychosis that had once affected him, showing no further signs of disassociation with reality that our patients suffered.” 

Fran had to set the Journal down for a moment, looking over at Mr. Midnight who had hopped up into the desk, settling in and tucking his front paws under himself as he listened to her read aloud from Dr. Oswald’s journal.

“He and Leon knew one another… they worked together,” Fran said, looking back down at the journal and flipping a few pages before beginning to read once again. 

“We chose twins for the study as a way to ensure we had a good comparison. One child would be encouraged in their fantasies by Leon, the other would be given the usual treatment for psychosis. The goal was to see what it would take to get someone to begin viewing the Ultra-Reality as Leon once did then see if the information gleaned from the other Realities could be used to help heal the psychosis. 

The first set of twins were Grace and Lucia Dagenhart. The pair were orphaned due to a house fire, which took the lives of their parents and grandparents. They were the only survivors, traumatized by the incident. According to Leon, they were perfect. In order to begin viewing the Ultrareality, one has to be “broken,” at least according to Leon. It is a difficult theory to test, but so far every individual who has been able to view the Ultrareality had some sort of excessive trauma in their background. Grace responded very well to conventional therapy, Lucia did not, thus our choices were made for which twin we would attempt to push towards the Ultrareality and which we would use conventional therapy on. 

Things were going well at first, but then the experiment stalled. At first, I thought that my conclusions would be proven true – no matter how hard Leon tried to connect with Lucia utilizing the shared experience of the Ultrareality he saw little improvement while Grace responded well to the conventional therapies, showing great progress. I was ready to stop the project, but that was before I met… well... the being utilizes male pronouns and has a male appearance. 

The being of which I speak, I first encountered while doing my nightly rounds around the hospital about a month into the experiment. I had never before seen any of the figures that Leon talked about, I still doubted their existence, until that night… 

He was a tall figure, standing at the end of the hall. Robed in black I at first thought that a patient had wandered away from their room, but then I noticed that the figure was hovering off the floor. As I approached, the figure remained still and calm, their back to me with their hands clasped behind them. 

“Who are you?” I asked. 

“An Angel…” the figure replied before disappearing. This was the first time I saw him, but not the last. I came to learn that the figure was Remor, one of the beings Leon had encountered. He had dominion over the Kamalas that fed off human despair, the dark beings that hovered around some of our patients or so Leon often said. I never saw these Kamalas, but I saw Remor more than once during my nightly rounds, eventually he appeared in my office one night, sitting quietly in one of the patients’ chairs.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, shutting the door behind me for fear of being overheard. 

“Checking in on your work,” he replied. “Your interest in the Ultrareality despite being Unawakened is fascinating…. Your work summons a great many Kamalas to this place to feed and as I am their keeper I can appear here to observe them.”

I could not see his face, Remor always appeared as a robed individual with a goat-skull mask with four horns, but his voice was calm and even. I didn’t fully comprehend what Remor was saying at the time and I am still not completely sure what he sought…” 

Fran frowned lightly as she stopped reading again. The journal didn’t have many more pages of writing after that, in fact it did end abruptly in the middle of a sentence as if Dr. Oswald was called away as he was writing. Fran shut the journal and put it into her satchel, mulling over what she had learned. 

“Remor came here because of the Kamalas… but also because Oswald was hurting people, trying to force them into seeing the Ultrareality,” Fran mused, moving to pet Mr. Midnight in long strokes. The cat purred softly from where he sat on the desk, content for the moment. “He once said that Oswald would “no longer interfere” after he killed him but what was Oswald interfering in?” 

“Remor’s work to free himself of course,” Was a gentle voice’s response from behind Fran. She quickly turned, ready to call upon her magic, but had to shield her eyes as a great light filled the room, making it as bright as daylight. 

“Who are you?” Fran demanded, standing firm even as she had to squint. The light slowly dissipated to a gentle, warm glow. It was an aura around a lone figure, tall and veiled in the same shimmer of light as the Valokas Fran had seen in Ithersta. The Shield was also the same as those given to the Valokas who had earned it, however this one was more elaborate and looked to be made of a different material. 

“I think you know who I am,” The figure said with a soft chuckle. He was taller and broader than the Valokas Fran had met before. Fran’s eyes slowly widened as she realized who she was talking to and immediately she went into a deep curtesy. 

“Your Highness… The Great Valokas, how may I be of service?” Fran asked, voice full of reverence. 

“Walk with me Fran Bow, let us step out into the sunlight and get away from this dark place,” The Great Valokas said, motioning to the door. Fran just nodded and scooped up Mr. Midnight into her arms. The cat curled up against her shoulder, watching the Great Valokas carefully. The luminous King of Primeve walked with measured steps towards the door, Fran following him cautiously. 

In the hallway outside shielded Valokas stood at attention along the corridor while a few chased away a couple of lingering Kamalas, who hissed as they retreated. 

“King of Light has come!” “Foul Valokas!” “Retreat to the safety of the Fifth Realm!” “Marked Girl is with him! Tell the Prince of Darkness!” 

“Such charming creatures….” The Great Valokas stated as he walked, leading Fran outside to the overgrown gardens and finding a stone bench to sit down on. 

“Sir… why are you here in the Third Reality?” Fran asked, letting Mr. Midnight jump out of her arms to go play in the grass. The Great Valokas motioned to the empty seat next to him, a clear indicator for her to sit. His movements were controlled, precise and the air around him was warmer, the light a little brighter. Though his glow had dimmed now that they were outside, he was still almost too bright to look at and caused Fran’s eyes to sting a little. She was glad that she could look out at their surroundings instead of directly at him. 

“I came to meet you, Fran Bow. I regret not meeting you sooner, but my duties kept me away,” He stated in a voice that reminded Fran of her long-dead father. 

“Itward did tell me that you rarely involve yourself in the matters of the other realities,” Fran admitted freely, watching as Mr. Midnight chased a butterfly. The gardens seemed to come more alive as they sat, radiating out from the Great Valokas’s presence. 

“The Walker Between the Worlds is correct. I once walked openly among the Realities, long ago, but now I find that my influence is only needed rarely,” The Great Valokas replied. “I am content to remain in my own Reality, unlike some residents of other Realities.” 

Fran paused, glancing at the Great Valokas. He was impossible to read beneath his Shield. She wondered what he looked like underneath it, knowing that he and Remor were said to share a strong resemblance.

“Your Highness, what does Remor want with people who are Awakened like me?” Fran asked. 

“The Prince of Darkness is not interested in the Awakened, he is interested only in you as the Keeper of the Keys. You have the ability to open the doors between realities, an ability that Remor has been denied due to his past actions against the Realities,” The Great Valokas said, nearly spitting out Remor’s title as if it was a bad taste in his mouth. “And he will do anything within his power to regain that ability, to once again allow the Fifth Reality to terrorize the other four.” 

Fran frowned at the Great Valokas’s words, casting a glance around her. She saw a few Valokas who were chasing the Kamalas away from the gardens, likely in attempt to keep them from reporting the details of the Great Valokas’s conversation with Fran back to Remor. Something about what the Great Valokas said wasn’t sitting quite right with Fran. In her journey through the Fifth Reality the denizens had been frightening to look at but none of them had made any attempts to harm her. Even Mabuka had been ambivalent to her intrusion into her den.

The Great Valokas interrupted her thoughts by putting a finger under her chin and gently directing her to look at him. “I can sense your conflict, child. Know this – Remor is dangerous and manipulative, he should never be trusted under any circumstance. He uses sweet words to twist the mind and ensnare the unwary. I would hate for you to fall to his schemes.” 

Fran had to close her eyes as she listened to the Great Valokas’s words, basking in the warmth of his light. “I will be cautious, your Highness.” 

“Good, thank you for indulging an ancient King. Let Light guide you, Fran Bow,” the Great Valokas said as he stood up, walking away from the bench until he faded away, his Valokas fading with him. Fran frowned lightly as Mr. Midnight trotted up to her, sitting at her feet. 

“So that was the King of Primeve,” The cat said. 

“It appears so… come on, let’s get back to Ithersta, I’d like to talk to Itward,” Fran said, standing up and smoothing out her skirts. 

-x-x-x- 

“Not-so-Little Marked Girl has spoken with the Emperor of Light!” The news was whispered like wildfire among the Kamalas as one that had been at the asylum returned to the Fifth Reality and to Remor’s grove. There was much excited chattering among the beings as they made their way towards Remor. 

The Prince of Darkness sat on the grassy knoll where he had spoke with Itward ten short years ago, head down as he meditated and gathered strength. The chittering of the Kamalas wasn’t enough to alert him, he was long used to them talking softly in the background. He gently offered a hand as one came near, resting its head beneath his hand.

“My Prince, the Conqueror of Light spoke to the Marked Girl,” it said, voice small and scared. Remor’s eyes shot open at that, a snarl forming on his lips.


End file.
